


Just An Old Sweet Song

by lostlenore



Series: Summer Pornathon '14 [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Summer Pornathon 2014
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 11:56:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2024211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostlenore/pseuds/lostlenore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Georgia in a heatwave and Merlin naked on the back porch:  Arthur doubts he'll survive the summer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just An Old Sweet Song

**Author's Note:**

> Titled with apologies to Ray Charles. Originally written for the summer pornathon '14 summertime bonus challenge.

The screen door bangs open and Arthur blinks awake. He can hear snatches of the people on the radio shouting about the heatwave that’s rendered Ealdor and all the neighboring towns useless. Roads are empty, houses are quiet, and from Arthur’s spot on the floor of Merin’s porch it feels like the entire world has slowed in its turning.

His sluggish brain takes a minute to register that Merlin’s talking to him, and Arthur closes his eyes the better to focus on the honey-thick drawl that creeps back into Merlin’s speech whenever he comes home to Georgia in the summer.

“-and you’re not even listening. Fine, I’ll drink it myself, you big lazy lump of-”

Arthur cracks one eye open.

“It’s too hot out for shouting, sit down; you’re making me sweat just looking at you.”

Merlin gives him an eyeroll that somehow encompasses his entire body. “You’re not looking at me at all,” he says, which means Arthur performs the herculean effort of opening both eyes and sitting up, just to be contrary.

“Last one,” he says, waving a beer can in Arthur’s face.

“What happened to your clothes?” Arthur asks weakly, making a swipe for the beer.

“Ditched ‘em. It’s, what, 90% humidity today?”

Merlin is completely naked save for a pair of boxers with cartoon magnets on them. It sadly does nothing to keep Arthur from wanting to kiss him, which has been a recurring problem for a while now. Just how long isn’t something Arthur wants to examine too deeply. 

Merlin sits down next to him with a sigh. Upon closer inspection Arthur can see the beginnings of a nasty sunburn unfolding bright pink across the bridge of his nose.

“You’d be way less miserable if you stopped clutching your pearls for a moment and dressed for the weather.”

“I’d be less miserable if I were in Alaska,” Arthur says, cataloguing the way sweat makes Merlin’s boxers stick to his thighs. “I can’t believe we’re out of ice. Oh wait- I can.”

“Stop being such a pissbaby.” Merlin kicks him. “I’m sorry it’s not Cape Cod or wherever the fuck, you know we’ve got to ration water here.”

Arthur says nothing, but wraps his fingers lightly around Merlin’s ankle in silent apology.  The radio inside the house plays a country song about losing your girl/dog/truck/guitar, trickling out the windows opened for a breeze that never seems to come.  

“Tell you what,” Merlin says. “You can have half of this,” he waves the beer, “if you at least take off those god-awful khakis.”

Arthur can’t stop the grin from spreading slow across his face. “Benevolent despot my ass. If you wanted me to strip for you Rhys all you had to do was ask.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Merlin shoots back without any heat, “gimme your pocket knife will you.”

There’s a flush to his cheeks that Arthur knows from careful observation isn’t all sunburn. He rips a hole in the can and holds it out for Arthur, who wraps his fingers around Merlin’s and brings the can to his lips. He can feel Merlin’s eyes steady on him as he gingerly mouths over the jagged opening in the can. It’s blessedly cool against his lips and where it drips down his throat. Arthur would pay obscene amounts of money for a pool right about now. Or, well, another six pack. He can’t see him or Merlin driving into town today though, so he takes his time, drinks until he’s sticky and sweaty and the only sound is crush of the can under his fingertips and Merlin’s harsh uneven breaths.

“My turn,” Merlin says, voice rough, “I think you’ve had more than enough. Now off with the clothes.”

He lifts the half-empty can away from Arthur’s mouth, and Arthur can’t help the soft whining noise he makes at the loss. Merlin slants him a look that has the air feeling several degrees hotter. Arthur can feel his face burning just watching Merlin run his tongue across the rim of the can, his head tipped back to expose the long pale line of his throat. He tugs his shirt off over his head to find Merlin’s eyes on him, a lazy smile curling up the corners of his mouth.

“Missed a spot,” he says, tugging on the belt loop of Arthur’s shorts.

“Can’t have that,” Arthur answers with a smile of his own. “If we make a big enough mess do we get to shower off?”

“Maybe. It would have to be a pretty big mess,” Merlin says, eyes fluttering closed when Arthur reaches up to cup his face with a palm. He can’t help but skim his thumb across the corner of Merlin’s mouth, still sticky and wet from the beer they just shared, and watch as his lips part easily around the pads of Arthur’s fingers.

“I don’t have anywhere to be today,” Arthur murmurs.

He reels Merlin in for a devouring kiss, and every point their skin touches burns hotter than the sun.

 


End file.
